Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, Jesus gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.

I often wonder what would have happened when Jesus fed the 5000, if he forgot whom he belonged to, and grabbed for himself first, scared that there wouldn’t be enough to go around.

If Jesus had said to his disciples, “You take those four loaves and one fish and hope it’s enough to feed the 12 of you. I need the other loaf and fish or I won’t have the strength to preach.”

I think Jesus didn’t act that way because he was secure.

When I look at Jesus I see a man who knew whom he belonged to.

I look at his Son, Jesus, and I know that being God’s beloved doesn’t guarantee an easy life or the outcome that I want. But there is something about the way that Jesus lived his life with wild trust in the one that made him that I want to emulate.

When I forget that I belong to God I get all insecure. I start to worry about tomorrow. I fear I won’t have enough money to the pay bills and I start thinking that no one likes me. I start grabbing every thing in site and hoarding it for myself – just in case – because I forget God will look after me.

It’s only recently that I’ve started to feel more secure as a Child of God.

There is one simple thing I’ve done that has changed all this for me. I’ve started praying, “Abba, I belong to you” most nights as I fall to sleep and that’s made such a big difference to me accepting my identity in Jesus.

I'm Wendy and I'm learning to love well, run well and read well. I write for anyone who has ever held a loved one’s hand through illness, or believed in God despite hard circumstances or ever left on a spontaneous 2-week holiday through a foreign land with just a backpack.

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I'm learning to love well, run well and read well. I’m married to Xylon - a man who talks non-stop about cycling - and makes me laugh. I write for anyone who has ever held a loved one’s hand through illness, or believed in God despite hard circumstances or ever left on a spontaneous 2-week holiday through a foreign land with just a backpack.